


Hearts and Sharp Things

by SnowLotus



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bittersweet, F/F, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:21:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27044920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowLotus/pseuds/SnowLotus
Summary: It has always been a game they shared, even if it wasn't what they wanted.
Relationships: Ashe/Katarina Du Couteau
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	Hearts and Sharp Things

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is from ff.net, I’m in the process of cleaning up and getting things moved over to ao3 so if this looks familiar, that’s the reason! This was written a long, long time ago for a friend, inspired by the release of Heartseeker Ashe. So… a really long time ago.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own League of Legends, and all characters/champions are copyrighted to Riot Games.

The candle lights were flickering brightly with yellow-blue flame, washing the walls in sunset shadow. Light silver wax dripped in slow, heavy drops, caught by the bronze hands that cupped those tall candles flecked with scarlet and gold.

Vines of belligerent frost snaked up ivory bedposts, a plush mattress piled high with pillows, cushions, and blanketed in a rich duvet. There were petals strewn about the floor, and that was probably the most she was concerned about – maybe that was going too far, though it did give the room a rosy bouquet that twisted beautifully with the smell of incense. It was ostentatious, almost garish in its ridiculous materialism.

It was perfect.

Queen Ashe had just finished scraping away the last bits of wayward candle wax before a brazen knock resonated through whitewashed walls. She twirled back to seat herself on the bed, smoothing her hands over her clothed thighs. Still and silent, she knew she was hidden by the shadows and she also knew that the woman would let herself in within the next three seconds.

"You called for me?"

The door slammed open, followed by a rough grunt of surprise. "What the hell is all this?" Kicking the door shut behind her, the Sinister Blade squinted and peered into the darkness, searching for any sign of the Freljordian archer.

Taking her cue, Queen Ashe picked up the single rose lying on her bed as she stood up, stretching her body out like a lithe leopard before drawing into the soft candle and moonlight.

Katarina's jaw almost unhinged itself.

The Queen looked, to put it simply, fatally gorgeous. Straight hair had been curled at the ends, strands twirling across velveteen red and gold shoulder ruffles and brushing the top of well-shaped breasts covered barely by a too-tight brassiere. Katarina blinked and shook her head. The whole outfit was a damn puzzle. It was a bodysuit merged with the idea of ornamental armor. It covered slender arms with light purple and decorated in a heart that covered the Queen's torso. The short skirt was there too, as was the smooth expanse of thigh that the assassin's eyes quickly traversed down. Then there was purple again, and heels but Katarina was unable to contemplate how _those_ worked because she was busy wondering how the Queen's legs were so _long_.

Suddenly she felt rather underdressed.

Katarina merely snorted and folded her arms tightly against herself. Except, despite her desire to remain impassive and entirely uninterested, there was also a desire to _look_ and that thought disgusted her because she didn't consider herself as someone so base or crude or—

"Is something the matter, _darling_?"

… oh.

Katarina's throat was hard at work trying to pump out syllables that were _meant_ to respond in some snarky manner befitting of her nature, but the only thing that was vocalized was something caught between a choke and a croak. It was hard to verbalize the effect the woman in front of her had on every aspect of her body.

It was especially hard to kick her brain into action when Ashe dropped her voice into a tune of melted promises and husky beginnings. _Darling_. The ghost of that pet name she hated accompanied a curling smirk. It wasn’t derisive or demeaning, it was a simple word that meant only affection when it came from the archer.

So, Katarina shook her head. “No.” There was a slight tremble at the end, one that could have been easily lost to the untrained ear. Except there was nothing untrained about Ashe and there was _absolutely_ nothing the matter except for, well, _everything_.

If the Queen heard the break-in Katarina’s voice, she gave no sign of it and took a step forward. What she did notice was the intense staring. Katarina looked close to combustion, a light blush dusting her tanned cheeks and very much noticeable to her keen gaze. Katarina undressed her Queen with her eyes, near burning them to nothing from the green fire in her eyes.

Ashe matched Katarina, eye to eye. Crystal blues remained unblinking and aloof, her lips twisting into an all too familiar smirk as she twirled a rose idly between gloved fingers. She’d stripped the thorns from its stem, not out of fear but simply to send a message. It was a nice touch of symbolism: unafraid of something stripped of its defenses, and Katarina might have found it quaint if she hadn’t been so busy staring.

In a sudden surge of faux disappointment, Queen Ashe broke their silent stalemate with a heavy sigh. “I thought I told you to wear something suitable.” She leaned forward, radiating as much displeasure as humanely possible without sneering. “I thought you were good at following instructions.”

The shift in tone snapped Katarina out of her semi-fugue state and looked down without a second thought. She wore what she usually did when the Queen requested her presence: her usual leather jacket had been tossed aside in favor of a thick black coat to weather the chill. Beyond that, she still wore her leather armor cut to show off her toned midriff and black leather pants. Ashe had never talked to her about her choice of wardrobe, yet the Queen of Freljord expected her to own something fit for court?

"I didn’t think—"

"You aren't here to _think_." Queen Ashe interrupted sharply.

Katarina blinked, an eyebrow shooting straight up and almost disappearing beneath her hairline but quickly shook her surprise off as the Frost Queen curled her index finger, motioning the assassin to _come hither_. Katarina could do little but comply. She stared openly at Ashe’s long legs, at the tantalizing divot of her collarbone and all those unspoken promises. When the Queen gestured for the assassin to walk past her, the strangeness of the request Katarina almost snapped herself out of it.

Too little, too late.

Queen Ashe tittered before whirling Katarina around by the shoulders, her heels giving her an inch or two above the normally taller Katarina and leaning forward to press her lips against the assassin's ear, ghosting her soft murmurs against the sensitive skin there. Katarina was quickly losing control of all cognitive functions and in a final surge of strength, she took another step backward.

“Ugh—” She grunted in surprise when the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed and this whole scenario was so wonderfully cliché that she nearly berated herself for her own stupidity. She would have done so too, if the Queen’s tongue had not invested a sudden interest in her earlobe, nipping lightly there and tracing the slope of her jaw.

The clatter of something solid vaguely informed Katarina that the Queen had kicked her shoes off, but when her head hit the back of plush, heart-shaped pillows, all thought stopped. It wasn't that she didn't _enjoy_ being backed into a corner by the lusty Queen of Freljord, it was the fact that she didn't know why nor did she have the wherewithal to ask this all-important question as she stared into the deep crystal hovering over her.

"Well now," the Queen drawled, her nimble finger tracing idle patterns on Katarina's bare collar, her gaze never losing contact as she did so. "It seems as if our bright-eyed panther has been captured."

Then it hit her; Queen Ashe was playing a game with her. Everything was made clear now: the candles, the roses, the backtalk. It was not often the mood struck, but when it did, Katarina always felt at odds. It was rewarding and drastic all at once, for they were always left with needing more and wanting less. But she could not deny the archer. She focused her attention back on the present and found those soulful eyes and coy lips moving—

Katarina furrowed her brow. What?

“Wait, what?”

The Queen slapped the assassin right across the cheek. Though there was no real force in it, it still left the abused flesh stinging slightly in the cool air and it was enough to leave Katarina speechless. The Queen had _never_ hit her before. Not in the bedroom, at least. But for all her shock, Ashe looked like she was about to go into cardiac arrest, her façade all but burning all the way down to the very last wire.

Katarina grabbed Ashe’s hand, pressing her palm against the burning of her skin. It gave her some relief as she stared with what she hoped to be her best impression of forgiveness and apology. That it was alright to keep this game going. That she knew her place, at least for the next couple of hours.

“I will pay attention next time,” she promised, ignoring the disgust shooting through her veins. She hated being a puppet or being used. It screamed against all she stood for to act subordinate to anyone. She gripped Ashe’s hand a little tighter, a reassuring squeeze before finally letting it go.

The look on the Queen’s face was worth it. Ashe gave an imperceptible nod and cleared her throat, donning the mantle of royalty once again.

“See to it that you do.”

Some of her previous authority had dissipated, but it was still more than what Katarina was familiar with. Ashe leaned in, kissing the assassin briefly before drawing away and running her tongue across her lips. Katarina felt a tremor shake her shoulders but before she could fully vocalize her impatience, Ashe was at her clothes. Her leather breastplate was unclasped and thrown unceremoniously to the side before the archer was tugging at the leather pants that kept Katarina at least _moderately_ decent. She lifted her hips to be rid of that too.

The Queen looked at her, from the crown of her head to her thighs but Katarina remained motionless. There was no reason to hide and though a small blush had crept onto her face, she hoped that the dull darkness hid it well enough even though she knew that Ashe's eyes were not to be trifled with. The quirk of Her Majesty's lips only proved her right and the flick of the Queen's wrist made the assassin even more nervous.

"Take it all off."

"But—"

Ashe's harsh glare was enough to deter Katarina from protesting further and she fumbled at the clasp of her bra for a moment before the thin fabric floated off. She chucked that to the side too, watching it fall amidst extravagant red petals, only to turn back and meet the searching gaze of the Queen again. In all honesty, Ashe's blatant voyeurism should have been more of an annoyance than anything else. A hypocritical thought, considering the way she’d been staring at Ashe not moments prior. Yet when Katarina sat up to remove the remaining piece of her modesty, one rub of her thighs brought forth a sudden jolt through her stomach.

Despite it all, Ashe's little show had sparked the flames of desire within her. The archer's hands were pressed against her shoulders, pushing Katarina back down against the bed with Ashe following in hot pursuit as her lips murmured against molten skin. She bit the assassin's chin roughly, sliding her teeth against the throb of vocal cords and her hands were drifting over darkened, turgid tips that peaked on Katarina's breasts. The Noxian's body rose to meet Ashe's palm, which simply rose in unison and Katarina hissed in frustration.

"Ah-ah," Ashe grinned. "Say the words."

"Please… please touch me." Katarina blurted out, strands of dark crimson falling across her heaving chest, her eyes wide and _pleading_ as her hands clutched at the disgustingly red corset, the gold spiral decorations cool beneath her palms. There was an exigent desire to touch bare flesh, but she knew that Ashe would only punish her because royal bodies were not meant to be touched in such a _barbaric_ way. Katarina would have chuckled at her own little joke if not for the fact that Ashe's mouth was right _there_ and nipping at her neck like a hungry snow wolf.

Slightly frosty hands were running down the sides of Katarina's body, nails playing a glissando down her ribs in symmetry. Then fingers were clutching at her hipbones, bruising the thin skin stretched over delicate bone and Katarina growled, all restraint torn and thrown away as she pulled back harshly.

" _Take me._ "

Then there was a loud, ripping noise and Ashe suddenly found herself bereft of the tight cloth that once held her bosom in place and hid her body from the blast of chilled air. It wasn't the sudden temperature that caused the archer to still her hands – in fact, she barely felt it – but the way Katarina licked her lips; she was no longer imploring or on her knees – it was a _demand_. It was something the Frost Queen was so utterly familiar with that all thoughts of assertion and dominance were stripped away.

Ashe stared, gaping like a river fish, Katarina staring back with hints of a challenge sparking across bright eyes. The archer, aware of her current state of undress and the way her hands pinned the assassin's wrists to the bed, quickly pulled back and made to slip away but Katarina simply snaked a nimble arm around the Frost Queen's waist and pulled her forward. With Ashe staring wide-eyed at her, Katarina busied herself with pulling the rest of the ruined material away, peeling the fabric and baring deliciously pale skin for the assassin to drink in. "It's only fair," she said softly, wrenching down Ashe's skirt none too edgily, "that I please my _mistress_ too, yes?"

Ashe suddenly felt small in the grand scheme of things, the Noxian's faux submission striking a chord into her already raw heart. It was as if she was something less, stripped of the clothes she wore and with it, the dramatics, and the pretending. She shivered and whimpered softly as the assassin's fingers touched her naked waistline, grasping at her hips and pulling the archer forward.

Katarina quirked an eyebrow up at the unclothed woman looming before her, "Yes, Your Majesty?" There was something alluring about Ashe when she was squirming with discomfort. The archer did not have as much control over the Noxian assassin as she did over her little ice bow, but Katarina had to admit that she was enjoying the way Ashe's teeth tugged at her lower lip, her eyes casting this way and that as she struggled to find the proper words that would wipe away the flush on her cheeks.

"We should stop."

"Did I displease you somehow, Your Highness?"

Ashe threw a glare, still blushing as her confidence slowly returned. Katarina cupped the archer's cheeks; her lips curved into a hairpin smile as she chuckled softly which only made Ashe huff and blow a strand of hair out of her crystal eyes.

"I'm not—"

"Forget about it." Katarina waved it off.

"I'm sorry…"

"It's fine."

"… for hitting you." Ashe finished.

"As you should be."

Ashe grumbled softly to which Katarina simply smirked in response before blinking in astonishment as the Queen suddenly turned so that her back was resting against the Noxian's warm body. Katarina's eyes were a cautious glitter of emerald, her fingers a soothing remedy to the Ashe's turbulent emotions as blunt nails ran their course through Ashe's snowy hair. As the archer's eyes closed, the assassin was suddenly very aware of the naked skin pressing against her breast and the fresh snow that tucked itself into her shoulder.

Despite knowing that Ashe would give in, it had not stopped the slow, rolling sensation that turned like a sleepless lover within her core. Katarina swallowed lightly as she fixed her attention on threading the curtain of silky strands; the curls were losing their domineering bounce, reverting back to the style Katarina was familiar with. Ashe's hair was a platinum waterfall, plummeting straight down and fanning over creamy skin as her heartbeat tried to keep up. Her hands never hesitated, continuing to trace the shell of a reddened ear, her nails dipping to the curve of the Queen's neck, throat; fingers did stop briefly on smooth, unclothed shoulder but hurried on as if detesting the idea that they be caught lingering.

She cleared her throat loudly, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe, or speak or do anything that did not include touching the Queen's heated skin. Ashe looked up at her, ruby reds parting to inquire; her eyes already searching but the Noxian merely shook her head. She would have kissed the Queen of Freljord right then, but that would mean she would have to twist and bend her neck awkwardly and nothing about Ashe was _awkward_. It was maddening to think like this and feel like that and a soft growl managed to push up and through her teeth.

"Don't ask."

The clipped tone did not deter the Queen at all. In fact, Ashe slid off smoothly, her back curving like a snow leopard's and Katarina suddenly found the Queen's crystal blues regarding her curiously. Once upon a time, Katarina would have smiled viciously at Ashe's ploy but now she could only dredge up a strangled sound of surprise as the other woman all but straddled her. Her eyes dragged themselves down, pulling at Katarina's desire and following the trail that began at the hollow of Ashe's throat and ended somewhere in the depths of the sickeningly purple and red bodysuit.

 _T_ _hose colors don't suit her_ , Katarina thought to herself absently.

"What?" Ashe asked.

She responded by shaking her head mutely.

"Answer me." The Queen was demanding now, dancing with concern and danger and Katarina almost _laughed_. It was so unbelievably _Ashe_ to pester her so, despite the glint of a sharpened dagger lying between the pillow and the sheets. Her eyes roamed back upwards, satisfied for now in their wandering but now captivated by the stark contrast of blazing blue, reflections that spoke of something Katarina wished she could appreciate.

Then Ashe's hands were upon hers, soothing in their touch but not in intent. Katarina felt the approaching gasp gripped as she held her breath, slim fingers wrapped around her slightly longer and more-than-slightly rougher ones. Her hand was on the Queen's cheek now, and the assassin stroked her thumb against the smooth skin before her hand was pulled downwards slowly, waltzing over Ashe's jawbone and down, down towards that enticing collarbone and stayed there, hesitating on the edge.

"Look at me."

Katarina did.

"No, _look_ at me."

Katarina decided her expression must have been scattered in equal parts confusion and sudden anger, her desire to scream _I am_ tearing at her throat like a feral animal for Ashe quickly soothed her voice and clutched at her lover's hand like it was the only life she needed. So, Katarina looked. Perhaps not in the way the Frost Archer may have wanted to, but she looked with a desperate desire to understand.

Eyes again, pure blue and flecked with hints of a lighter shade of crystal embraced by darker swathes of azure. Delicately shaped eyebrows dipped downwards, the acute frown doing nothing to remove the beauty that was the Queen of Freljord. Her hair was dove white, smooth, and soft like the blanket of snow that washed away the world beyond frosted panes and slightly curled, special for the little game they always played.

Katarina refused permission for her attention to go anywhere lower, for _anywhere lower_ was too low. She ignored the gnawing in her belly and the erratic pounding in her heart because she knew that to give it voice was to give in and surrender. Katarina lifted her other hand, placing it gently - disconcertingly so - on Ashe's cheek, the palm of her hand curving naturally to fit the sculpture and she swallowed again.

"I'm trying."

The Queen blamed this need on Katarina like how one may blame a door for simply being a door. There was a rising urge, this boiling in her stomach that rattled at her ribs and pounded on her bones and it _ached_ to want something so much only for that something to not want in return. She wanted the assassin's lips on her, scorching skin pressing together and bodies writhing and she _needed_ Katarina to see her as more than just the Queen of Freljord who was so eager to be played and wanted and _loved_.

Ashe inched forward, slow enough for Katarina to push her away but the assassin closed what little distance there was and crushed her lips against the archer's with intent like no other. Ashe responded in kind, surging forward and pressing Katarina back against the plush pillows, scrabbling to find purchase in the soft sheets before finally grasping onto Katarina's bare shoulder blades. She felt nails digging into her hips, eliciting a small moan right as Katarina's tongue split the seam of her lips and bringing another rush of heat through her veins.

When they parted, Ashe was the only one audibly panting for breath, but the heavy heave of Katarina's chest gave away the redhead's own desire for air. One look at the assassin sang of words that needed to be said but never would, and Ashe parted her lips once again to ask _why_ before Katarina swallowed the sound with another kiss. Urgent hands dragged up, away from Ashe's hips and landing on the small of her back before flipping the archer, growling into the Queen's mouth lustily even as perfectly clipped nails landed and imbedded themselves onto the rolling muscles of her upper arms.

The kisses were urgent now, a replacement for everything and anything, the touches blazing trails of heated passion across flushed skin, stripped raw of everything but the emotion and _want_ and everything Ashe thought she had lost. The archer tilted her head to the side, sighing as Katarina's burning lips detached then reattached onto the thin skin of her neck, tongue flicking upwards and tracing the tight tendons and light veins and feeling all her stress thaw into nothing but liquid warmth.

"K-Kat…"

The assassin simply smiled into the pale skin she was lavishing her attention on, her head lifting just enough to offer a knowing grin before dragging a damp trail with her tongue straight down between the Queen's breasts, dipping into and curving the crevice where Ashe's breast draped over her ribcage. The archer's upper body was glistening in the shaft of moonlight, moisture and sweat collecting on her skin as she squirmed. Her eyes were screwed shut as the Noxian placed a quick, biting kiss onto her belly, her hips jerking upwards which only elicited a lazy chuckle before the pain and warmth were gone.

Katarina licked her lips, collecting taste and committing it to memory before she sat up, her knee rubbing against the archer's core which brought forth another delicious moan as she looked down to survey her handiwork. She ignored the throb at the juncture of her legs, and she ignored the way her own body involuntarily shifted against Ashe's thigh and focused on the taut stomach, appreciating the generous swell of finely shaped breasts before reaching finely painted lips and glitters of blue beneath half-lidded eyes.

Her slender fingers were meant to hold plastic hilts or leather-wrapped steel, shaped to clench tightly and taught to never let go. Her hands weren't meant for caressing warm bodies, especially not the _Queen of Freljord's_ but here she was, her digits dancing a sadistic path littered with tiny scratches and leaving even tinier red marks as she scraped her nails against the fragile, royal skin. She licked each and every wound without hesitance as she approached her prize.

"Did anyone ever tell you," Katarina breathed, the warm air hurtling over Ashe's heated core, and with the knowledge that her lover was dripping and _wanting_ , shifted her body closer. "That you are _insatiable_?" She did not give her lover a single chance to answer as her tongue darted out and pressed against the moist center, diving in and stimulating sharp gasps and lusty moans. What followed quickly were those hands that had come to join the waltz. Katarina took her time, slowly inserting a single finger and feeling Ashe's walls contract around it with wonton need.

Katarina gave one long, languid lick against the sensitive bundle of nerves; drawing out a keening groan from the archer somewhere above and with that mere sound, the assassin was seized with the sudden desire just to _see_ Ashe, just as she was asked. She kissed, sucked and twirled the small nub before dragging herself back up to push stray strands of pale hair away from Ashe's face and leaning in to suckle the other's lower lip before pulling back. Ashe was flushed with desire, her skin taking on a rosy hue and one that suited her much better than that garish red.

"You're beautiful," she whispered, her fingers continuing to move, pressing forth as if _everything_ relied on and believed at this moment. When Ashe moaned huskily, Katarina could not stop herself from adding another digit to distend Ashe's heated walls, bringing about a whimper at the flash of pain. She was drumming staccatos and vibratos against the archer and inside, her hips grinding her inner thigh and her own passions against Ashe's leg with primitive abandon.

" _Katarina_!"

Bright, hazy blues met with blazing trails of viridian right as a burst of light blinded the archer's vision and she cried out, all thoughts of want and need forgotten. Her thoughts collided like splashes of paint, mixing and drowning each other out and she vaguely heard Katarina's own soft cry of relief but her fingers never ceased their rhythmic motions. Ashe convulsed, the action sanctioning the assassin's digits deeper and hitting _that_ place, and all of a sudden, she felt meteors in her darting through her veins, her spine curving and her ribcage straining upwards.

Ashe was _melting_ into Katarina, onto and everywhere in between as she gripped the assassin tightly, her fingers imprinting dark bruises and betraying the archer's strength as she shuddered, a hoarse mewl drifting through her lips as her hips bucked once, twice, then once more as she came. The reverberations were aftershocks jolting through her veins, her shoulders shaking as she felt her body being lowered back onto the bed. Though her breathing came in irregular gasps for air, Ashe still did all she could to refocus her attention before deciding to simply lay back and subject herself to the assassin's soothing ministrations.

Katarina traced a slick finger over trembling thighs, spiraling over a protruding hipbone before resting on the smooth expanse of the archer's belly, rising and falling with deep breaths. Her lips continued on, lightly kissing the swell of Ashe's breast, then the dip of bone at her collar; her throat, her neck, her cheek then finally on her eyelid. Ashe breathed out, opening her eyes to the sight of Katarina's self-satisfied smirk.

"Did you…?"

"Yes."

Ashe smiled meekly, tilting her head up as Katarina kissed her gently on the lips this time, the tenderness somewhat unbecoming of a famed Noxian assassin. The touches were chaste, peppered across her skin like wildfire but the archer was thankful for the knowledge that in some way, Katarina would stay even if for a little while.

It was well past midnight and well past their allotted hours for games and pretense. The thick glass of her windows rattled in their frames as Freljord's winds beat against them wildly, a deep contrast to the slow, anxious flutter that wafted in the air. It was the smell of thick silence and dying candles, of drifting blossoms and heady incense. They lay there, between the perfumed sheets, two halves separated by raw awareness and hidden confusion. The words came with difficulty, but when they did, it was almost as if they had forgotten.

"This is only a game for you," Ashe whispered.

"It's not."

"It is."

"Is that what you want?" Katarina asked.

Ashe shivered, the question drowning her in snowstorms and floods and she couldn't think of a response _good_ enough for the assassin that had now turned her back on the Queen who was feeling very much embarrassed and frustrated all at the same time. The sweat was cooling on her chiller-than-natural skin, but that only made her that much more aware of the warmth of the body beside her.

"I want _you_."

"You have me."

Ashe shook her head, and she could feel tears of frustration building up behind her closed eyes. Katarina didn't ever understand. She felt sick, and it wasn't the kind of sickness that burned her brow and devoured her stomach, nor was it the kind of sickness that warranted some sort of special medicine. Ashe was mentally ill, fatigued to the point of unintentional grief and it only hurt her more when she realized that she would gladly do it all again.

Katarina would never stay, even if Ashe asked politely. Even if Ashe commanded, or demanded, or pleaded, the assassin would simply laugh, wave her hands, and vanish through closed windows or locked doors. In the morning, Katarina would simply be the smell of steel and shampoo lingering on her pillow and Ashe would curl up with the sheets clutched between her shaking hands and stay there until the birds began to sing.

A laugh escaped her throat, which quickly turned into a sob of some kind.

"What's wrong?"

Ashe wondered if Katarina was actually concerned, or if the idea that the Queen was on the verge of tears merely discomforted the vicious assassin. So in a voice barely above a whisper, she said, "You must think I'm pathetic."

"Why?"

"You know why."

"I don't know."

"Because!" Ashe cried out suddenly, the blankets twisting in her form as she turned herself over only to be greeted by cryptic pools of emerald, searching her face with questions that lay buried beneath claws and biting words. The distinguishable scar was glaring at her, challenging yet again in its existence. Ashe realized she didn't even ask Katarina about it and that thought scared her because out of all the things she wanted to ask, _that_ was it. Her fingers entwined themselves into the cool, thick sheets and she inhaled sharply as Katarina edged forward, close enough for the archer to trace every crease of the other's lips and the fleeting glint of white teeth.

" _Because_? Is that all?"

"Because what kind of Queen acts this way?" Ashe squeezed her eyes shut and turned her face away, her back once more against the bed but the assassin was motionless. "I'm meant to be leading my people, making peace with Sejuani, giving impressionable speeches and encouraging my husband to…" The archer choked on her words, as if suddenly afraid that said husband would burst through the locked door, swinging his giant sword and yelling obscenities. "He's been gone for almost a month now," she managed between clenched teeth, "Yet here I am sharing a bed with a Noxian, thinking up vulgar games and situations which you probably even don't enjoy half as much as you enjoy watching me fail them not moments later."

"Do you really think that I would humor your little games if I was somehow bothered by them?" Katarina sneered, ignoring the sting that came with being described as just _a_ Noxian. She propped herself up on her elbows, glancing at the archer who insisted on maintaining eye contact with the insides of her eyelids. Katarina sighed, rolling her eyes up at the ceiling. "What I meant was, I don't have to do it. I don't have to come here when you send your pretty letters and I don't come to _visit_ you in your room just because you flutter your lashes at me."

The archer sighed. "I'm being childish, aren't I?"

"You are."

Ashe curved her head so that she was looking at Katarina once again, but the assassin wasn't looking at her with disgust marring her alluring face; the smirk was back, all-knowing and confident. There was a shuffle of bedsheets and silken fabric and Ashe found herself being mounted by Katarina once again. Except there was nothing sexual about this; Katarina's hands were soft against her lover's cheeks, not yet understanding but willing to open her eyes and _try_. She leaned forward, a screen of crimson tumbling down to hide them from the world and her faint breath whispered over Ashe's lips.

"Don't worry, okay?"

"I can't help it."

Katarina was struck with a sudden affection for this woman who had come into her carefree life like a raging snowstorm, disregarding all dangers and acting as if the assassin couldn't have killed her right then and there. She had been approached on a day she could not quite recall, with the archer demanding an explanation for something she had done. Katarina didn't realize that concealing affection could be so difficult and when she had given in to her desire in the corner of the archer's room at the Institute, the only fallout was Ashe responding to her inhibited kisses passionately.

"What are you thinking about?"

The Noxian pursed her lips before falling dramatically – _gently_ – against Ashe's chest who squeaked in surprise. Her ear was pressed against her lover's bosom, listening to the flutter of her heart and feeling the slow movements of soft breaths. She felt something deep within her pull against its bonds, wrenching and struggling to free itself. Katarina didn't know emotion like Ashe – the archer hid hers well, pushing away anyone and everyone who dared to break her but the assassin had succeeded and she wondered if it was because she _knew_ what Ashe was going through even if she didn't _understand_.

She thought she had discarded sentimentality, left it behind like an unimportant piece of her life and all that remained was anger, hatred, scathing sarcasm, and violence as sharp as knives. Katarina didn't know what Ashe saw in her, and every morning when the sun slipped through frost-covered glass, the idea that the archer would see her differently when the passion and desire wore off _scared_ her. It was fear that Katarina hated the most, and it was fear that drove her away.

Katarina started slightly at the archer's hands against her hair, supple digits easing through her hair almost comfortingly. She wondered how it had ended up like this, with Ashe being the one to soothe her worries when _she_ had been the one that was on the verge of tears not minutes ago. But Katarina wasn't complaining. The methodical movements were therapeutic, and her eyes were beginning to droop just as Ashe's quiet voice cut clear through the hazy fog that had settled on her thoughts.

"Will you stay?"

"If that's what you want."

"You already know what I want."

Katarina laughed, "Remind me?"

The cool fingers massaging her scalp paused and Katarina was almost beginning to regret saying what she did and opened her mouth to apologize somehow before gentle yet firm hands gripped her cheeks and tilted her head up just as soft lips pressed against hers. Katarina pushed herself up on her forearms to deepen the kiss but as quick as it had been, it was gone and she was left peering at Ashe's mischievous gaze.

"I think I'll show you instead."

**End.**

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be working on a sequel which is a long, long time coming.


End file.
